<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bitter Skins by PotatoLady</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26355010">Bitter Skins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoLady/pseuds/PotatoLady'>PotatoLady</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, Mercyfic, No Romance, No Sex, Past Abuse, Slavery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26355010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoLady/pseuds/PotatoLady</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eret was bought to work out the summer and the harvest. When his master can't sell him on before winter, he abandons him instead. </p><p>When Eret comes across a stranger in need of some help, he's only hoping to earn some food, or maybe a place to sleep.</p><p>He'd never expected to find a friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Character &amp; Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, awesome people! </p><p>This demanded to be written, so here it is! &lt;3 love you all! </p><p>There's mention of a whipping and general references to abuse in this chapter, but it's all very handwavey.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Hannikin had not, Eret had to admit, been in any way a cruel master.</p><p><br/>He had not beaten his slaves unnecessarily or harshly. He had fed them once a day and given them a place to sleep when the work was done. All in all, one of the most bearable masters Eret had ever had. </p><p><br/>Of course, it couldn't have lasted. </p><p><br/>The farm work ended once the harvest was taken in. With it, Hannikin's need for slaves, and his willingness to feed those slaves. <br/>The others had all been sold within weeks.</p><p>Eret, of course, had not been. </p><p><br/>He was able-bodied, and fit enough after a lifetime of labor. He was neither sullen nor wild. He was a good slave. But his eyes, by the will of the Creator, had been set crossways in his head since his birth, and for that, no buyer would look twice at him. Not with the steep need for farm and construction labor petering off with the onset of winter. </p><p><br/>Hannikin had not been a cruel master, but he had not been patient, either. So once the three weeks he'd set aside to sell off his summer slaves was up, he unshackled Eret and told him to be off the property by sunset. </p><p><br/>Eret had tried to protest. He'd be taken as a runaway, he'd said; he'd be beaten and executed. He'd asked to be able to stay--he would scrounge his own food,  he would work on whatever Hannikin liked, if only he could stay. </p><p><br/>He had left the property by sunset with a new set of stripes for his trouble. </p><p><br/>Life, since then, had been a long series of terrible decisions. Perhaps decision-making was a muscle, Eret thought, that needed using to grow strong and dependable. He had been a slave since his birth, or nearly; every decision in his life had been made for him. </p><p><br/>He'd started out by avoiding towns, afraid of being caught and punished as a runaway. However, avoiding towns also meant avoiding things like warmth and food. The winter was coming on fast, sending down soaking sleet that constantly threatened to turn into snow, and Eret's feet grew steadily sorer with every step he took on the side of the rough country road. </p><p><br/>He didn't know how long he'd been masterless. He didn't want to know. All he knew was that the sun was setting again, making him even colder in his rain-soaked clothes than he had previously been, and the last meal he'd eaten had been out of a sow trough. </p><p><br/>He would have taken any of his cruel masters over this one who had abandoned him. </p><p><br/>Ahead of him, there was the sound of muffled but insistent cursing. </p><p><br/>Eret looked up, frowning in the uncertain light. Another curse, followed by a heavy thump. He saw--strange, because he could have sworn it hadn't been there before--a tall dark shape, boxy against the pale frostbitten fields, with a faint glow as of a hidden candleflame behind it. He was cautious as he approached, edging along the side of the road and ready to bolt if he needed to. <br/>In the early days of his not-at-all-freedom, he would have run at once, not daring to risk being caught; but he was far too hungry now for such caution. </p><p><br/>The flame and the voice meant a Someone, and the Someone meant that there could, maybe, be food. Eret approached, allowing himself the smallest smidgen of hope. </p><p><br/>As he neared the shape, it became clear that it was a wagon, tall and painted in something that had once been bright and lovely, but was now flaking away and fading. </p><p><br/>It was also tipped over badly, and as Eret got ever nearer, he was able to hear the particular curses that the Someone was grumbling. </p><p><br/>"Stupid piece of internationally acclaimed junk!" The voice exclaimed,  as the wagon rocked harshly under the force of the blow without righting itself. </p><p><br/>A tight knot was in Eret's empty stomach. A free person was bad enough; but an angry one was dangerous. </p><p><br/>He almost bolted; but even aside from the food--he had spent far too long alone. The sound of another human voice, even an angry one, was far too tempting to resist. <br/>Eret gathered his courage and walked around the wagon. </p><p><br/>Sprawled there, on the mud, was a man. As far as Eret could gather, he had been trying to dig out the wagon wheel, which had gotten itself buried in half an arms-length of the semi-frozen road clay. It was a bad job, that much Eret could see. </p><p><br/>Still. Food. </p><p><br/>"Sir?" He asked, cautiously interrupting the seemingly endless string of under-the-breath curses that the man seemed to be occupying himself with. </p><p><br/>The man didn't hear him. "Sir?" Eret asked again, louder this time. The man startled, nearly hitting his head on the wagon as he sat up. He sat, staring up at Eret for a blank second before scrabbling to pull the lantern out from underneath the wagon, holding it up so that it glowed against Eret's face. Eret ducked his head, thumbing his brow respectfully, and gestured to the wagon. </p><p><br/>"Will you be needing some help with that, sir?" </p><p><br/>He saw now that the man was brown-skinned and had eyes that were set oddly in his face. Not a native here, then, of Eret had to guess. He wondered where the man must have come from. He had never seen even a slave that looked like that. </p><p><br/>The man looked at him oddly, and Eret ducked his gaze so that his wide eyes would be less obvious. </p><p><br/>"Help would be much appreciated," the man said, miraculously neither mentioning Eret's eyes nor the obvious stamp on his ear that marked him a slave. His only reaction was to glance briefly down the road, eyebrows lifting faintly when he discovered that Eret was unaccompanied. Still, he scooted over, leaving tracks in the mud, allowing Eret to kneel down beside him and peer under the wagon. </p><p><br/>It was worse than Eret had thought. </p><p><br/>"The axle broke, as you can see," he explained, as Eret took in the extent of the damage. </p><p><br/>"I've got a spare, but to replace it, I need something to prop up the weight of the wagon while I remove the wheels." </p><p><br/>"Stones," Eret said. </p><p><br/>"If there were any," the man replied. </p><p><br/>Eret had a still-throbbing toe in proof that there were. </p><p><br/>"I saw some, just down the road," he said. "I can get them." </p><p><br/>The stranger nodded. "If you wouldn't mind," he said. </p><p><br/>And so, Eret was drafted into service. As he trotted back down the road, he felt better than he had in weeks. </p><p>The axle was a difficult job to repair. The man, who eventually introduced himself as Tex, continued his string of curses through the entirety of the work, and occasionally slammed a hand into the wagon in a violence born from frustration, but he never so much as slapped Eret. For his own part, Eret tried his best to help, though his efforts often seemed less than useful. </p><p><br/>Still, by the end of it, the broken axle was sitting in the mud at the side of the road, and the wagon was righted again.</p><p> <br/>Tex nodded at the work thoughtfully. </p><p><br/>"Well," he said, "That's done." He looked to Eret. "Looks like I owe you my thanks," he said. "I Couldn't have done this without your help." </p><p><br/>"It was nothing," Eret said. His stomach writhed silently in his belly, and he hoped to the Heavens that Tex wasn't about to leave him on the road with nothing but thanks. <br/>Tex, for his part, shifted his feet a little awkwardly before looking Eret up and down, thoughtful-like. </p><p><br/>"I don't think it'd be wise to trek on through any more of this mud, stranger." He said. "But you're welcome to share a fire and a meal, if you've got nowhere else to be." </p><p><br/>Eret's mouth watered, and he had to swallow before he spoke. "I'd be most grateful." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tex might have been poor to middling at fixing broken axles, but he was excellent at making fires. Even in the damp pre-winter chill, he had the pile of sticks and wood blazing in mere minutes. The warmth was sending stabbing pains through Eret's fingers, but it was a welcome discomfort. He had barely been able to keep himself from leaping on the food even before Tex set to mixing it in the lot above the fire--snowmelt, potatoes, a dry packet that smelled savory and crisp as fresh-cooked meat, and--it sent Eret's heart thudding with a feeling of forbidden things--another packet of actual meat, dried though it was. He hadn't had meat in years.</p>
<p>The stew bubbled over the fire.</p>
<p>"There are bowls in the wagon," Tex said. "Second cupboard to the right, soon as you walk in the door. Get us a couple."</p>
<p>"Sir," Eret said, on instinct, as he got to his feet and scurried for the bowls.</p>
<p>The inside of the wagon was small, but not as utilitarian as Eret had been expecting. The windows sported yellow fringed curtains, and the lower bunk bed had a knit blanket rumpled haphazardly over its surface. Hungry as he was, Eret found himself pausing--just for a second--to take in the scene. It was--comfortable. Unexpected.</p>
<p>He found the bowls--dented old tin things--and carried them out to the fire. Tex was still stirring the stew, the fire glowing on his face like the devil in a mystery play. He looked up as Eret clambered out of the wagon, though, and it ruined the effect.</p>
<p>"Find them?" He asked, and nodded when Eret gave him the bowls by way of answer. Carefully, he ladled out a generous portion of stew into one, and lifted it up to Eret. "Careful," he warned, "it's hot."</p>
<p>Eret's mouth was already awash with anticipation, and he took the bowl in shaking hands. It was weightier than any meal portion he could remember receiving, and he watched the rim vigilantly as he folded his legs beneath him, making sure not to spill a drop. As soon as he was sitting, he lifted the spoon to his lips, using all of his self-control to blow a little of the steam off the stew before he put it in his mouth.</p>
<p>The stew was almost too hot. He swallowed it anyway, greedily, and only after it hit his stomach--hard--did he remember he was supposed to chew.</p>
<p>The soup was delicious. The meat was tough and thick, almost hurting his teeth, but it was a good hurt--one that assured him of the strength of the nutrition going in his belly.</p>
<p>The food was enough to fill his stomach to the brim. When the bowl was empty, Eret could feel the warmth of it, still radiating, seeping life back into his bones.</p>
<p>He set the bowl down beside Tex's, and tucked his feet underneath him for warmth, wrapping his arms around his knees.</p>
<p>"Apologies," Tex said, unprompted, from the other side of the fire. "I'm not much of a talk-maker."</p>
<p>Eret blinked. People didn't usually talk to him, except to give orders (if they were in charge of him) or to ask for favors and advice (if they weren't). He supposed that freemen would be more uncomfortable with long stretches of silence.</p>
<p>"Neither am I, sir." He offered, and Tex nodded appreciatively. He wasn't looking at Eret, which Eret liked. The fewer reminders the man had of his presence, the more likely it was that he would let Eret huddle beside the fire for the night.</p>
<p>Tex watched the stars overhead for a few more moments. Eret, instinctually, looked up too. The night sky was a deep, rich indigo, like the velvet of a merchant's doublet, with a stripe of paler purple--the spine of the Night God, who took the form of a great Wolf and wrapped himself around the world to protect it from the burning light of the Day Goddess. The tiny specks of light dotting the perfect blue were the places that the Goddess's arrows had pierced the Night God's hide, allowing tiny dots of fire to glow through.</p>
<p>Eret wished, belatedly, that he had saved some of his meal so he could pour it out to strengthen the god. He so rarely had enough to spare for worship that he often neglected it, but he was a faithful servant of the twin deities, and each needed all the strength they could get in their time.</p>
<p>Tex sighed heavily, and Eret startled slightly, caught up as he was in his own thoughts. He was suddenly glad he hadn't saved some of his meal. Tex was a stranger, who probably worshiped different gods, and he might have taken the pouring out of his food as an insult.</p>
<p>"It's been a long day. I'm going to sleep." He said, bluntly. Eret nodded, waiting for the man to tell him to leave.</p>
<p>But Tex didn't. He just walked into his wagon, closing the door behind him.</p>
<p>Eret relaxed, inching closer to the fire. It still had a few hours' worth of heat in it, at least, and overall, this would be the warmest night Eret had spent in some time.</p>
<p>There was a click as the wagon door opened again. Eret glanced up.</p>
<p>Tex stumped out, carrying something in his arms. It turned out to be a pair of logs, which he placed on the fire, and a rolled-up blanket, which he tossed to Eret.</p>
<p>He turned away again, stalking into the wagon and shutting the door behind him without a word.</p>
<p>Eret blinked. The fire began to lick up at the new fuel, crackling and growing brighter and warmer. Eret began to unfold the blanket, finding it to be thick, and soft, and large enough to wrap himself in to keep out the damp of the earth and the chill of the air.</p>
<p>He fell asleep in moments.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eret's first day with Tex.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eret drifted awake to the sound of clanking tin. He blinked, surprised to find himself relatively warm and dry, wrapped up in a grey blanket.</p><p>Tex was crouching on the other side of the fire, jabbing it intermittently with a long stick. The tongues of flame flicked up and around a pan, and he could smell the mellow scent of cooking grain wafting by.</p><p>"You're awake," Tex said, apparently not inclined to berate Eret for his continuing existence. Eret nodded and stood, picking up the blanket and doing his best to brush the dirt off of it. It had gotten damp, he noticed with some distress. He'd intended to fold it, so as not to appear ungrateful, and now he couldn't without the risk of it molding.</p><p>Luckily, Tex seemed to understand his predictament.</p><p>"You can hang it up over the front of the wagon," he said. "it won't take long to dry in this weather."</p><p>He was right. It was a clear, pale morning, the sun not at all warm enough to change the effects of a constant and bitter breeze.</p><p>"Thank you, sir," Eret said, and hurried to comply, hanging the blanket up as neatly as he could.</p><p>When he turned back, it was apparent that Tex had been watching him. Eret felt an uncomfortable prickle up his spine, as if he'd been taking a rest at the wrong time and was about to be next under the overseer's lash.</p><p>Tex, though, only bent his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing there for a moment before looking up again.</p><p>"Look," he said, "I've got to apologize. I know I behaved like an ass last night, and you've been nothing but helpful. I'd like to say I don't usually take my frustrations out on strangers, but, unfortunately, it's come to my attention that I can only make promises for my own behavior when I'm in entirely predictable circumstances. And I'm not. In predictable circumstances."</p><p>Eret was perplexed.</p><p>"You gave me a blanket, sir." He says, meaning it as proof that Tex had been nothing but kind, but the man only gave him a strangely pinched look, as if he'd just found a dead insect in his boot. Eret could only hope that he was not the dead insect.</p><p>"Yes," Tex said. "Well. You got my wagon up and running, which must have delayed you far longer than you'd planned, seeing as you were traveling with no food or blanket of your own, so it was the least I could do."</p><p>"I'm happy to help," Eret said, feeling a little desperate. He didn't dare contradict the man--a free man, who owned property--but the warm night and his own full belly had driven in his mind a need to not wander anymore. He was afraid that if he spent another night shivering through the snow with no food, he wouldn't survive. "I--I don't have anywhere to go. You didn't delay me, sir."</p><p>Tex stared at him. Something was going through his mind, though Eret could hardly tell what.</p><p>"And I gave you a blanket," Tex said. He sounded very tired.</p><p>"Which was very kind, sir. I didn't--I don't usually need one."</p><p>I can make myself  small, Eret wanted to scream. I ask very little, and don't eat more than I'm given, and I never complain. You don't even have to look at me.</p><p>"I don't have very much," Tex said. "But I have found myself in need of help more than once. I'd be happy for an extra pair of hands, if you'd like to travel with me for a while."</p><p>"Yes, sir!" Eret burst out, unable to help it. "I can do whatever you need, if--"</p><p>"Don't go rushing off yet," Tex said, waving him back. "Sit. Eat."</p><p>Eret rushed to do so. Two meals in so short a time--it was a luxury he wasn't about to scorn.</p><p>"It's unnatural," Tex growled, "this level of energy so early in the morning."</p><p>It wasn't really a compliment, but it wasn't an insult either, and Tex filled a bowl and handed it to him anyway.</p><p>It was the best grain Eret had ever tasted.</p><p>***</p><p>Eret tried to help as Tex began to clean up the camp. He felt as if he was only getting in the way, but his apologies were only met with an odd look from Tex and an occasional dismissive hand-wave. Eret tried to apologize for the apologies once. After that, he decided it might be best to not say anything at all.</p><p>The wagon had a small driver’s seat that would only handle one person at a time, so Eret walked beside the wagon, watching either his feet or the lumbering hind end of the horse that pulled the wagon. He kept his head down—at least through the first part of the day. Tex didn’t seem to want conversation, and Eret would have been vastly unprepared to humor him if he had. So, silence it was.</p><p>A crane called from overhead, the strange eerie sound drawing Eret's gaze before he well knew what he was about. He watched it as it flapped across the open sky, crying out in a voice so inhuman, so melodic, that he didn’t realize he’d stopped in his tracks until the wagon creaked to a halt beside him. The horse huffed and stamped, splashing in the cold mud. Eret caught sight of Tex's hands holding the reins out of the corner of his eye, and he shied away from the blow he knew to expect. <em>What are you watching, boy? You can already see both horizons. </em></p><p>None came.</p><p>“I’ve been seeing a lot of those,” Tex said. When Eret looked up, he saw that the man was watching the flight path of the crane, evidently oblivious to Eret’s sudden movements. “What are they? There was nothing like that where I come from.”</p><p>It took Eret a moment to realize he was being addressed, even though there was no one else around but the horse.</p><p>“They’re cranes, sir,” he offered. “They leave in the winter, and come back in the spring.”</p><p>“Hm,” Tex said. “Traitors.”</p><p>Eret thought this might be a joke, since Tex gave him a small smirk afterwards, but something in Tex's tone told him it might not be. He didn’t dare reply with anything other than a cautious smile.</p><p>They walked in silence for the rest of the day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Winged Messenger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tex receives a message.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The raven came three days later.</p>
<p>It was evening, almost night, and Eret was arranging the fire. He usually managed the fire and the horse, while Tex managed the meal and the wagon. It seemed to work well, and kept Eret from the danger of looking like he was making assumptions with the man’s food and space. Tex had fed him in equal portions every night, and after the first night, he’d also taken to arranging a bed in the wagon for him. Eret wasn’t going to do anything to cause that to change.</p>
<p>The raven swooped down and landed on the roof of the wagon, bold with an air of familiarity. It cocked its head, fixing Eret with a bright-eyed stare, and croaked.</p>
<p>There was a thud from inside the wagon. Eret watched as the wagon rocked on its springs, bucking like a wild cat and eventually spitting out a wide-eyed Tex.</p>
<p>The raven croaked again, this time at Tex. He held up an arm, and the bird flew down, landing like a hunting hawk on his wrist.</p>
<p>Tex glanced at Eret, who realized he’d been staring and glanced away. He continued stoking the fire, not daring move to the horse for fear of being accused of spying. He heard the rustle of paper. The raven was a message carrier. The message was none of his business.</p>
<p>Eret stoked the fire. The wagon creaked again. More papers fluttered. The flap of wings sounded over the crackle of the flames, and Eret stood, striding to where the horse stood in her traces, confused at the delay and huffing impatiently.</p>
<p>Tex sat in front of the fire, staring at the paper in his hand. Eret didn’t want to disturb him, but he also didn’t want to slink in the dark like a thief. He came back to the fire, albeit cautiously. Tex seemed to rouse himself at the approach, gathering his limbs and tossing the paper with its mysterious script into the fire. Eret tried to stifle the stab of loss he felt at seeing it be thrown away. It wasn’t as if he could have read it in secret.</p>
<p>Tex looked up at him, managing a smile.</p>
<p>“Done already,” he said. “I seem to be falling behind you. I’ll make dinner, but it might be a minute.”</p>
<p>Eret wasn’t sure how to assure the man that he hadn’t meant to hurry him, so stayed silent. Tex busied himself with the cooking, but the flow of the work had been thrown into disarray, and Eret was painfully aware of the fact that he was hovering, trying to find something to put his hand to when there was only one person’s worth of work to do. He didn’t dare wander off, though, and be accused of lazing; and he didn’t dare go in the wagon, and be accused of presumption or--worse—stealing. It was unlucky for even the most honest of slaves to be alone with some free man’s possessions for any length of time. He couldn’t simply sit and watch someone else work, and there was no way to help.</p>
<p>So, he hovered, painfully aware all the while that he was probably being annoying, but utterly incapable of being anything else.</p>
<p>Tex glanced up at him, a question in his eyes, and the pins and needles that had been supporting Eret's stomach clattered together into a jumbled heap. He swallowed, suddenly cursing himself. He should have gone and found something else to do, he should have—</p>
<p>“I suppose you’re curious about all of that.” Tex said, sounding resigned. Not angry, which was a surprise. Just resigned.</p>
<p>Eret still knew this was a potentially dangerous conversation. One he really would have preferred not to have. He ducked his head.</p>
<p>“It’s none of my business, sir.”</p>
<p>“I don't see why it wouldn’t be. You’re travelling with me. If I’m secretly a—spy, or something, it would be in your best interests to know.”</p>
<p>He frowned, following this up with, “I’m not a spy.”</p>
<p>All Eret’s masters had ever told him about their business was that it was theirs, and that he should keep his nose out of it if he wanted to keep the skin on his back. He had no idea to respond to—whatever this was.</p>
<p>Luckily—or perhaps unluckily, since Tex was still talking to him—Tex didn’t seem to require a response.</p>
<p>“It was a message from some friends of mine. I’d been hoping to spend the winter with them. It seems that that is no longer possible.”</p>
<p>He looked up at Eret, and sighed. “A word of advice: don’t ever become unfashionable. It’s hell on the finances.”</p>
<p>Unfashionable, Eret thought. It was a word that would be better used for an object than a person. A dress could be unfashionable—a chair could be unfashionable—a cross-eyed slave was always unfashionable. Eret wondered what would bring a free man to use the term of himself.</p>
<p>“Never had finances, sir, but I’ll keep that in mind,” he found himself saying, his lips moving without his permission. He wanted to snatch the words back out of midair, stuff them under his tongue where they would give no offense.</p>
<p>Instead of being offended, Tex barked a laugh.</p>
<p>“A fair point. What’s the need for a warm hearth, anyway?” he said, with a grin that almost made Eret believe he meant it. “We’ve got well enough here.” He looked at Eret, a sparkle in his eyes again, and gestured.</p>
<p>“Hand me a bowl, will you? This stew is almost ready.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Eret slept in the wagon again that night. As he bundled himself into the thick wool blanket, he was very careful not to think of it as his. That was dangerous. Instead, he thought of it as a gift, newly given, not to be expected again. He thought the same of the fire, and the stew, and the easy familiarity with which he was being treated. It could all change. It would all change, eventually, and Eret would be none the better or the worse for it, but just what he had always been—</p>
<p>A slave.</p>
<p>He fell asleep in a matter of moments, grateful for all that he’d been given that day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Soo. We have a tiny hint about Tex's history! And Eret is settling in, even if he's still a little cautious. </p>
<p>Next couple chapters will be a little heavier on the plot :D </p>
<p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>